Fallenreaper

Samhain Intrigues

@Fallenreaper Eeyup.

@LadyRunic

Would've been nice to know before 2 days, but thanks for clearing that up.

Samhain Intrigues

@Fallenreaper @Forett 2 Days left to post.

@LadyRunic

Alright, thought we had 14 days to post from when you posted last. I guess that changed?

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Plans Come Crashing Down

Location: One Night in Hell→ Exiting
Time: Evening- Opening

---

Mercy

The lights overhead continued to spin across the hazy darkness, drowning the patrons in the intoxicating scene. Mercy stood, for a split second, shocked at Damian’s reaction to her stomp. She didn’t expect it to work. In most her years on the wrong side of the tracks, her rash plans went sour and had serious repercussions. Most any Polly ever felt was pissed rather than pain. As Damian recovered, her mind snapped back to getting the hell out of here. She didn’t have much time until her package went. When that happened, the opening night would end with a huge bang. Feeling the pressure rise in her chest and anxiety build, she bolted for the wall furthest from the bouncer.

She was stopped in her tracks.

Her shadow grew tendrils and gripped her ankle, tugging them into the floor harder than she expected. Her legs collapsed underneath her. As she hit the floor, her breath was knocked from her lungs. Pain erupted across her side as she curled slightly into a ball. Hissing and cursing a few choice words no child should’ve known, Mercy tried to roll back over.

It was time to leave NOW.

Just when she began to recover, her shoulder was gripped and she was jerked upright. Mercy yelped in frustration. When her feet found solid ground, she turned on heel then tried to pry Damian’s grip off her. Muttering another curse under her breath, she didn’t care if her actions made things worse. Nothing would matter when the package went off. Fear to rolled off her in waves, realizing she was trapped now. Like a rat.

“Look, he’ll kill me if I tell you. I have to get out of here. Please, please just fucking let me go!” By this time, her voice had begun to edge into loud hysteria.

Nikki

“A raspberry martini, please!” hollered a gruff, male voice.

“Coming right up, sir,” Nikki answered with a fake smile.

The answering bartender was a white woman in her twenties, with a piercing on her lower lip and eyebrow. Over the months that followed her experiences, she had altered her hair style which still reflected her quick, independent style. The sides were trimmed close to the scalpel with the upper portion waved over to the right side. She was dressed in the traditionally expected trousers, dress shirt, and red tie, despite her being female. It was hard to stomach wearing skirts anymore so Masha gave her a free pass on it. A gesture the woman appreciated greatly.

She reached for the alcohol, careful to top the tin up. With a few fancy jerks, she rattled the contents around, mixing them properly. Finally she tilted the top into a single glass. She filled it to the very top in one smooth gesture then she added a small lemon garnish. She slid it right over to him without spilling so much as a single drop.

Appreciative, likely both of her curves and efficiency, the man tipped the glass in her direction. Then he downing it in one gulp.

That didn’t surprise the young bartender, but she expected it would come up later. They usually tended to fill the bathrooms with all sort of filthy. This made it a hassle on busy nights. In fact, many of One Night in Hell’s employees shamelessly tried to clock early in order avoid cleaning it. It was disgusting.

Placing the thoughts aside, her eyes caught Masha’s figure shift toward the lounge area. The more quiet atmosphere side of One Night in Hell causing her to spot the wink and promptly blush like she never realized she was able to. It went to show she was making progress into what was normal. She had been considering asking Nabriales for help, but she hadn’t wanted to pay whatever price he was slinging.

She spotted the wave of a young lady’s arm, getting the bartender’s attention promptly. Nikki turned and slid closer, signaling for the other bartenders to get the other side. When her figure slid across the counter’s surface, she gave a pretty smile toward the human and the prae. The gem on his forehead and markings on his skin were a bit of a dead give away.

"I'll take that compliment, though I warn you I'm even more interesting then I look. A martini with a twist will do for me; and what does the damsel in distress desire?" The male said when asking his companion.

Already, Niki was repeating the process she perfected by now.

"Your Damsel would also enjoy a martini," his female companion said, nodding at Nikki then turning to smile back at her date.

It was difficult for Nikki not to roll her eyes. Even more so not to gag at the flirting atmosphere between the two, though she could understand why. Prae were pretty to look at, had power in the city, and flirtatious. Who wouldn’t want to try to tap that? The method the woman was using, however, made Nikki inwardly cringe. The Prae’s date come off like she was trying too hard to be flirty. Nikki was smart enough to keep her mouth shut about it as she made the second martini. Then she slid them both over, ensuring the right customers took them. She took the money off the table before depositing it into the cash register.

By the time Amon gestured for her again, Nikki had served three others and placed the dirty glasses into the trolley for the kitchens. Casually she walked over to the young male Prae again. She leaned against the table with her arms folded up underneath for comfort, politely about to address him. Nikki became distracted when Rich tapped her on the shoulder. It was a signal he was going after a piece of tail causing her eyes to roll in frustration.

“Rich, I’m not protecting your ass if Masha finds out.” Nikki snapped quietly at his retreating back, then turned to Amon.

“So, what else can I get you? Drinks are currently half off by the way,” her voice returned to its polite, but cheerful tone.

Mercy’s scene could be heard in the background as Nikki fought the urge not to yell at Damian to do his job. The irritation was clear if the guy knew how to look beyond the mask. Why Masha hired that Licenti was beyond Nikki’s understanding, but she had hoped he could do his job a little quieter. Thankfully Lily’s music kept the good mood going while the generators appeared to be holding strong. She relaxed when she spotted that most the patrons were unfazed by the scene and fell back into their groove. After recent events, everyone needed something to lose themselves in and forget the world outside.

Killian & Emma & Masha

Killian had grown a few, subtle shades of red under his dark skin. The conversation kept pulling him more and more out of his comfort zone. Now it took all his energy not to bolt out of here. Mostly because he didn’t want to disappoint Emma. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, he was pleasantly surprised to see her. It warmed his heart since it showed her devotion to their relationship. He had dated several girls, usually greed whores to wild clubbers, and none of them ever did something like for him.

His arm wrapped around Emma’s shoulder and he held her close. He let himself be distracted until he heard someone cry out in frustration. Instinctively, his eyes shifted to the transparent glass doors and watched the pipsqueak Damian was dealing with trying to escape. An unsettling sensation washed over him then. Something old and familiar caused him to look at the girls. His expression was apologetic as he spoke, “I got to go help Damian. He is having an issue with some kid that got past the bouncers and she’s not cooperating.”

He kissed Emma on the forehead, feeling it was right, then rose to his feet.

Upon seeing Damian handle the girl, his eyes shifted to where he had spotted coming from the bathroom. His gut stirred again drawing him to walk closer.

“What’s going on?” Killian asked, ready to assist Damian.

Afua & Lily

Lily continued to sing. Her vis flowed with her vocal vibrations, filling the room and influencing the crowd. It didn’t take much to keep them happy when the world felt like it was crumbling around them. Her bright eyes closed to focus on the words. Each beat followed the electrical rhythm like it knew its soul. Being a creature whose anima thrived in music in order to lure her prey in, it wasn’t a surprise how much she missed this. Now her spirit rose up to do it again. Once more, she realized she needed another break. It was painful to see her unable to keep singing for long periods like she use to, but small breaks were better than going hoarse in the middle of a song.

Her figure turned around to face the DJ. She pointed to her throat, indicating it needed rest, then attached the mic to the stand. The guy nodded then changed the beat to something more instrumental. Still high in energy and enough to get a few heart pounding.

Carefully, she stepped down to the cooler. She pried the lid open then snatched a water bottle, twisting the lid open. She savored the chill running down her throat as she sipped it. Her eyes snapped to the side when she spotted Afua’s approach. One of Darius’ higher ranking members. Her face tightened into concern, wondering why the necromancer was here before it finally dawned on her. Masha. He would’ve sent someone to check on her, ensuring things continued to go well. Lily was a little disappointed he didn’t show up in person.

“I’m surprised our mutual friend didn’t show up,” Lily commented offhandedly.

She already popped the lid back onto the water bottle while waiting for Afua to speak.

“I tried, but no dice. Honestly he’s not been himself lately,” Afua admitted, though she was vague on the details.

This caused Lily’s eyes to narrow in suspicion. A lot had happened this morning, but Afua’s tone indicated it wasn’t just because of recent events. Before she could think farther on the matter, Mercy’s loud shout caught both women’s attention. Their heads snapped into the conflict’s direction. Damian and a young girl, underaged, were locked in a heated conversation. Lily was the first to frown.

“I was wondering when Damian would notice and go after her.”

“You know her?”

“No, I just spotted her from the stage a while back. I found it odd none of the bouncers escorted her out until now. I doubt Masha is going to be happy with him for being so slow.”

“Not much I can do to help about it. Darius’ orders. How well her bouncers handle things, it doesn’t reflect on me,” Afua said as she rubbed her hand across her nape of her neck. Pushing aside her dreads while she added, “I need to see Masha. Know where she might be?”

Lily took a moment to recall.

“Yeah, she’s in the VIP section. Saw her go there with another girl and Killian, through it looks like Killian’s decided to finally help Damian,” Lily answered.

“About damn time. Honestly, Damian needs to learn to be tougher or he might not be going to survive in any line of work. Thanks Lily and I owe you a drink.”

Afua then turned toward the VIP section in the club.

Essence of the World: Flesh Reborn [Adv. Roleplay]

Mistakes were Made

Location: Holly’s Apartment
Time: 3 AM

---

Holly

Holly’s world stopped spinning when she hit the floor. Pain flooded along her spin, likely bruised by the impact, as she inhaled sharply. Air filled her vacant lungs bring strength and recovered her breath almost immediately. The sounds of a struggle seemed to have begun in her apartment when a blur from her window rushed to attack her assailant, bring everything into chaos. Feeling her energy return, she cautiously flipped onto all fours. Sudden vertigo threatened to pull her back to the ground as she stubbornly resisted, gritting her teeth in reaction.

It was a sprain. That much she could tell from the twinge and throbbing causing her to curse under her breath. Great, just great… she thought bitterly while her head snapped up to watch the struggle erupt in her own living room. Her eyes immediately adjusted to the faintly illuminated room seeing slight details through the darkness. Through most of it was questionable, she needed anything that she could get to identify whatever had landed in her home.

When her vision steaded, she tilted her vision back to the door. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest, the ribs spared from the pounding abuse when she spotted Jean-Phillipe raise her gun toward the creatures. All color drained from her skin as her feet found ground. Her legs straightened in what she could only imagine was supernatural speed.

Minor Wendigo
(Weaker variety of a true Wendigo)

When Matthew entered within three yards of the creature, it was already alerted to his presence. Its attention turned from its prey as it twisted on a heel, its right arm raised to catch the vampire’s hand aiming for its heart. It wasn’t strong enough to hold it there. Instead, it wrenched it off aim and barely missed its shoulder. Where the fingers touched, a bitter-edged into the skin. A thin layer of ice crackled over the vampire’s wrist followed by extreme pain as if it was frostbitten. The other knife had moved too fast into its large body. The other hand wrenched it off course to its chest but felt the pain of silver enter its skin at its right lung and burned with a hiss. Its white eyes flash red toward Matthew.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved. I don’t like sharing,” It hissed.

The shadows retracted, briefly, showing the real creature’s true form underneath. Disrupted by the change in light. White skin contrasted with the painted fresh blood upon its surface, like soiled snow in a murder scene. There was no visible hair as the emancipated man smiled with a toothy, shark-like grin. Sharp, icy blue eyes shifting from Matthew to JP, the man now holding a gun to them both. It seemed additional food appeared causing delight to strengthen in its features, even that even the Vampire would know what was ticking behind the thing’s gears. However, the Vampire presented competition for his prey and that threat took priority over JP’s. Only Matthew managed to catch the truth of the creature’s nature, being so close.

When JP flipped on the light, he just saw the darkness shimmer then reform. Not catching the change fast enough.

Without much warning, the Wendigo’s grip tightened over the vampire’s highest wrist and raised up higher. Trying to force Matthew to release his weapon. The other jerked the silver blade from its side before pulling it outwards, preventing another hit. It was just barely stronger than the vampire so it couldn’t hold him for too long.

“I think it’s time we say goodbye, but we’ll meet again. I don’t take too kindly to being attacked,” the Wendigo rasped, then used all its force to shove the vampire off his feet and at the male human.

Ignoring the human’s earlier orders to freeze, it moved toward Holly. Already the woman was up and fallen into a defensive position. Her arms were raised just above chest level and up on her toes. Its clawed hand jerked out of her throat. Holly spotted the signs then ducked to the side, feeling the sharp tips catch her skin near the throat. Blood rushed down the shallow wounds to her shirt collar. Ignoring the sting, her left hand whipped over the outstretched arm. Her fingers extended to attempt to jab it into the eye. With inhuman speed, the Wendigo’s far hand jerked to stop it mid-rush.

Holly blinked in shock. Where did that come from? She screamed in her head, gritting from the pain etching into her skin. Frostbite starting to settle into the skin as the creature took advantage, its earlier arm moved back to the side and its other pulled her closer. Impulsively Holly tried to fight its grip, twisting her twist out. It held like iron compared to hers. It refused to let go while she tried to strike at pressure points, none of them having any effect. Her other arm began to push against his chest while it wrapped his arm around her back, trapping her there.

“Food...shouldn’t fight back,” it snarled.

Its jaws widened then bite down on her shoulder. Holly screamed again, feeling her own blood start to flow and struggled more.

Mass Effect Andromeda: Frontier

~|Ryria T’Vessi|~

Ryria’s good arm snapped up and her gun took quick aim. Her eyes narrowed as her finger threatened the trigger, ready to take out Serena’s last drone during its retreat. Her mind counted the seconds down until she fired. An alarm broke her focus causing her finger to release as the drone made it out of range safely. Her head instinctively lowered to note its origins. Her omnitool. Annoyance crossed her expression before she lowered herself down into a cross legged position, slipping her gun beside her. Already Sabinus’ voice crackled into existence informing them their exercise was cut short and a few scientists need a babysitter.

At least it was something familiar to her.

Upon the order to move, she wasted little time rising up and snatching up her training weapons on her way down the exterior stairways. It was a well practiced movement to save energy as she reached the ground. She followed the others back to the compound’s start. By now, the numbness had faded away to slight tingling and the bullet’s effects were fading finally. Ryria tightened her fingers, fisting them once then opening them. Satisfied with the result, she gathered up her gear wordlessly for the mission. She even had her medical kit waiting to be brought along conveniently. Trying not to think how it got there, she was strapped into the shuttle and ready to go.

The trip wouldn’t take long. During it, Tazen began to brief them over details in regards to tactics. Being closest to the cockpit, the Asari listened intently. Her helmet covered her indifferent stare in the Salarian’s direction while he mentioned how things had gotten wrong. She slightly was surprised that the team had been left alone to scavenge when there had been Kett reports all over. However, it wasn’t her place to judge. They all needed to survive and risks were required, manpower scarce or stretched thin.

Her head shifted toward the Turian female then to the human female, her only acknowledgement of their existence in the shared space. Beyond that, the Asari said nothing. When they touched down, she stepped off like the rest. Her figure followed close, leaving the appropriate space between her teammates. Her feet kicked just enough dust with her march to keep up. When the teams separated, Ryria’s eyes turned to the Salarian. Her hip cocked so she could set her hand to rest on its curve while he gave the orders.

Following orders were easy, through Ryria couldn’t help wondering when things would go wrong. They always did in these situations and one had to ready to adapt to it. Every nerve seemed to fire off a sense of awareness, heighten her senses into a flight or fight stage. Details that only fear could locate popped out at her. However, she wasn’t ready to run just yet. Upon hearing the word support, her hand reached for her rifle and snapped outward into a ready position. Distance was the key element here which made the rifle best.

When the tactical cloaks went up, Ryria took cover behind the closest possible crate. Her figure disappeared silently to provide distant fire should it be needed.

Samhain Intrigues

@Belle Black Panther has withdrawn from the Rp.

@FallenReaper@Forett Are you two still interested in continuing this RP?

My apologies for not posting but I've taken a rather large hit to my confidence to DM.

@LadyRunic

I'm currently I'm on the fence honestly. I've sort of lost muse for Noah a bit, though I could easily recover with time and posts. It would just take time. With the fact your confidence is at an all-time low, I personally think it might be worth considering taking a break and rebuilding your confidence, even a few days or whatever is needed. At least put it on the table as an option. Then come back, reboot it and try again with a different approach. It's a good rp idea, after all and might gain additional interest. That's my thoughts. I'm good with whatever the majority decides.

Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies

Dyril Elian

Name:
Publically (Elven Lands)- Híril (Lady) Dyril Elian, of the Elian bloodline and granddaughter of Hír (Lord) Raton Elian.
Privately- Agarwaen (blood-stained), Umarth (ill-fated), Hin (child), N'Tel'Quess (not of the people- not elf), Uuner (nobody), etc.
By Lower Station (often slaves and servants) - Híril Dyril

Age: 31 (ages about 1.5 slower than humans)

Appearance Age: 22 due to slow aging process

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Position: Merchant (upper class within Imperial Even society)

Personality:

Value over Image

Being an Elf, her upbring places a high value on image and worth in order to advance your family to a higher status. From her birth she has been taught to hold a strict control over her emotions and give a calm presentation in public, especially when in the present of those equal or higher than her rank. Failure to hold this practice would risk her family reputation, entitling them to mockery over their ‘childish’ behavior. Minor as it might seem, recovering from it was often a chore best avoided. This didn’t mean anyone could insult her family, and by extend herself, without any repercussions and those will come in time when she’s had time to ready them.

Patience

Dyril is very patient, maybe too patient at times. She never rushes into things, as shown in her bio, and instead carefully treads into her plans. It can take months to years to set things up before she feels safe to act on her plans. In some ways this can help and hurt her. While she won’t blindly rush in on instinct, any time sensitive plans she decides to follow could become useless if too much time passes or things don’t add up in her favor. Most times it requires a push from an outside source for her to place aside her patience and go for things ahead of plans.

Motivation

She will have two current motivations. Her original motivation was to prove her worth to her family, both Elven (though she won’t admit it) and human. In order to adaptly do this, she needs to make her trading dealings work out well and benefit her family both here and across the sea. Her second one will surface the moment she learns of recent events about the death of Henry. This will develop into a need for revenge against the individual that took his life away and desire to change her exile family’s state. How long this lasts could change in the future.

Weaknesses:

Image Vanity- Like many Elves are brought up to believe, Dyril values herself and family image highly giving her sense of vanity. Not surprising since her environment has been her teacher most of her life and it is all she knows. When others attempt to ruin it,, Dyril’s calm becomes less natural and more forced. With higher and greater insult to the image, she gains a hidden spite and this builds over time. Dyril rarely forgets an insult as she bides her time, gradually seeking to gain some sort of satisfactory revenge for their insult. If left unchecked, this can eventually become obsession in her free time or influence her focus.

Isolation and Abandonment Fear- While Dyril doesn’t fully know it, she has a minor fear of being discarded and even left behind by all she knows, loves, and even is connected to. This stems from her upbring where her family regarded her as something to be ashamed of and when possible, isolated her from both public and family ordeals. If it wasn’t for Kiseo, she would’ve fallen to the effects of facing her fear a long time ago.

Mix Heritage- Being a hybrid has its perks and limitations, something that Dyril knows fully well. One biggest stigma among hybrids is that they are sterile and are unable to carry on the bloodline into the future. This can bring a promising family into extinction over time if a future heir is unable to produce children. In addition, her physical appearance is a mixture of human and Elven which makes her unappealing to either race for the most part. Too Elven for a human or too human for an Elf is a painful experience forcing her to give up on the notion of any love or family. It also makes any manipulation through sexual appeal clearly out of her skill range unless one is curious or want to try something ‘exotic’. Another issue is that her facial ticks aren’t like humans and sometimes be difficult to read.

Lack of Combative Skills- Dyril was brought up in higher society and being female, these are primary factors that denied her the right to learn combat skills. Females had higher power when it came to marriage and politics than physical or business transactions within Imperial lands which made image that more important to them since it was harder to earn and keep. Married individuals often rode upon their husband’s successes which could range from the battlefield to more common skills unfitting for a female. This means any situation that required pure physical strength or speed would put Dyril at a serious disadvantage or even worse, make her into a fool. She is unable to defend herself should things escalate into blood and violence.

Ignorance of Formaroth- Never traveled beyond her family property too often, Dyril has little to no knowledge of any thing about Formaroth’s politics or recent events. Not even the state of her present family. Any knowledge she does know is officially obtained through traders (which are few and far between) or what guests have been kind enough to share, none she fully puts trust in until she’s seen it.

Appearance:

Physical

Being a hybrid of two races, Dyril’s got characteristics that fit both her mother and father. Her mother’s are dominant which allowed her grandfather, Raton, to hide her heritage with the excuse of deformities. ‘Unique’ isn’t acceptable in Elven society like it is in their slaves, a fact she’s had to live with all her life and struggle to overcome. Compared to her relatives who sport the common dark blue (denim color), hers is a bluish-grey shade. A few have compared it to something called blue spruce trees which don’t exist in Beilokias.

She has dark, brown eyes much like her father. So far, no one she’s been with for extended time- save her family- has noticed the difference compared to their own onyx back irises. Her face is considered long by humans standards, giving her a rather haughty look like the rest of her family. However when closely examined, the subtle differences are easily seen and clearly not completely elven. Her features are fleshed out along her cheeks, sides, and forehead rounder in comparison to her other female relatives.

The thicker physical appearance doesn’t stop merely at her face, but also include her weight which is considered heavy at 146 lbs and closer to human than any female elf should be. Meanwhile, her saving grace is that she barely falls to the average height of 164 cm (5’4”) and doesn’t need to shrink or alter it in any fashion. The final abnormality is her fingers, they are still considerably long but a bit less claw like and a dead give away to her human side. Instead of three digits on each hand, she has five.

Her default expression is often neutral and difficult to read thanks of her mixed heritage. Often considered permanently stuck in a day dreaming or haughty one, which gives the impression to humans she doesn’t care about what is being said. A fact that is far from her real feelings. However, when she does smile the human in her is quite easily seen and considered genuinely appealing (not sexually), breaking the bizarre features she inherited. Her black hair falls to about the bottom of her shoulder blades, but often bounded into numerous tight braids and loop about her head back. They are pinned in place with silver hair pins that are decorated into handcrafted designs like shells, feathers, and even animals.

Clothing

In Elven culture, despite the hot and arid atmosphere, the higher social classes often wear layers of clothing that reflect their status and importance among their peers. Being a granddaughter of Elian bloodline, her dresses are the official colors of black and yellow with the crest of her family’s rank. They are linked with the Patricians making Raton and his son Dathion apart of the senate. Often, Dyril is dressed in loosely fitting dresses made of two layer skirts, a pleated shirt and binded at the waist with a belt. Upon her feet are slipper shoes and a kaftan (long over coat) is placed over her to allow her to shade her head from view.

Background:
Family
Lists of those Dyril has interacted with on a daily basis, both alive and deceased.

Grandparents

Head: Raton Elian | 175 | Alive
Angril Elian (Madrin) | Died

Uncles

Saeldir Elian | First Child | Alive
Rawion Elian | Fourth Child | Alive

Aunts

Duvainil Elian | Third Child | Alive
Crabanil Elian | Fifth Child | Died

Male Cousins

Faron Elian | First Child of Saeldir | Alive
Seregon Elian | Second Child of Duvainil | Alive

Female Cousins

Theriadis Elian | First Child of Duvianil | Alive

PreSeason 1 Recap

The story begins on the day Dyril was conceived thanks to ill fated combination of a bet and curiosity. After the recent decease of his wife, Angril Elian, Raton’s merchant trade faced possible decline in popularity and worth when profits rapidly shot down. Evidence, much to his cringe, had been planted to discredit the value of his goods causing him to seek additional options to recover from the loss. In 471 A R, Raton and his daughter Crabanil traveled to Formaroth due to establishing trade with Ralda. The Mazeltof was one of a few families that held a rich dwarven source of materials in their land and were willing to trade for then giving the right persuasion. Usually the very rare magical items (thanks to a method done by mandrakes), potions, food goods not native to the continent, silks, and other materials. Drawven metal, in any variety, was often sought after for great prices making the trip worth it and hopefully recover his reputation.

Setting aside his mourning, Hír Raton Elian and his youngest daughter Crabanil traveled to Formaroth. Crabanil was expected to take up the trade negotiations after a few years and show her own worth in her family’s eyes. This wasn’t meant to be since on the last week of being deep into trade dealings, Henry Mazeltof was roped into a bet which his companions believed was impossible for him to complete: to bed the Elven daughter of their host. Being the arrogant, strong headed individual that came with his heritage, Henry took on the challenge in exchange for greater gains and his friend’s respect.

When Raton followed his father into the final night of negotiations, Henry made his move. He followed the young Elven daughter, just hitting the cusp of adulthood, into a secluded area where he began to converse with her. One thing led to another and out of mutual agreement, Crabanil’s curiosity being a main factor, they made their way to the guest room that served for her residence here.

After the one night stand, Crabanil found herself pregnant with child. Raton, himself, found out after they departed the Mazeltof hospitality and had settled back into their own port home. Purely because Crabanil was afraid he would break off trading rights to Ralda over it. Image, after all, was everything to him.

This created stress between her furious father and her, their desires divided over the tainted offspring’s future.

Raton wanted to bribe a priest from the priesthood, made mostly of mages, to abort the growing life within her womb and rid her of the shame it brought upon the family. However, Crabanil had other ideas. She wanted to use the child as a bargaining chip and to pull at the Mazeltof’s honorable reputation get more out of their future trading relationship. Forced to admit to the fact his daughter was an adult now, Raton allowed her decision to stand but he still blamed Henry for contaminating his youngest daughter.

Being a woman of high up bring, it would’ve looked suspicious for Crabanil to avoid public affairs. This would’ve drawn the attention of spies to try to pry the truth about everything then rush back to their masters. The last thing the Elian family needed was for others to create ways to blackmail them into less suitable dealings. So together they fabricated a plausible story to cover the obvious signs of Crabanil’s upcoming pregnant image. The young Elven woman had been seduced and lied to by another Elf within Formaroth, which there was a few. This charming man later vanished into the night after both bedding her and stealing numerous valuables. While it hurt Crabanil’s reputation for the time, it did nothing to harm the bloodline’s and the fact she was with child made the rumor believable.

Through many tried to dug deeper, they often found Raton there as a wall to their progression.

It was a year later that Crabanil went into labor on their estate home. Raton was pacing the hallways with nerves rattling his every step as his daughter’s laboring screams echoed throughout the wall and making him anxious for her health. Unknown to Crabanil, he had gradually threaten her slaves into placing a subtle herb in her tea in hopes to kill the infant late in the pregnancy. It wasn’t a sure success always, but enough to give him hope to try it.
Whatever divine forces above felt he desired punish did so with a vengeance. Instead of the infant dying, it was his beloved daughter. The herb had stopped her body’s ability to clot the blood and so Crabanil had lost a lot of blood during the birth, her blue skin ashy grey in hue. With her dying breath, she named her young female offspring Dyril before she passed away. The loss cut Raton very deeply, a mixture of self guilt and blame upon the child for being born.

For the following years he held deep hatred for the Mazeltof family and it fueled his determination to almost end the trade negotiations. However, his eldest son stepped in and made the request not to due to damaging their family image. Instead, Saeldir took over the trade dealings with the Mazeltof.

Against his daughter’s careful planning, Raton never informed Henry of his illegitimate child or even considered to use her as a pawn to their advantage. In fact, he wanted nothing to do with her. Her life’s care fell upon the family who felt it was best to hide their shame. They couldn’t simply lock her way as all the senate knew Crabanil had been with child and news about the birth had already spread through prior arrangements by the now dead mother. So they prepared for the expose in the future while making her life difficult.

Over the years, Dyril found herself exposed to higher education, various arts and whatever her family’s station allowed her to learn. Unlike Formaroth, women were frowned upon to learn how to combat since they were much more fragile compared to the male gender. Court dancing, sewing, and other more mild forms of quiet etiquette were expected. Everything Dyril learned was taught to her within her family estate which for much of her childhood became her prison. Never once was she allowed to explore the various areas within the city they lived in and her inherited curiosity often pawed at her in daydreams. This wasn’t the only thing she had come to accept in her life. Her family, uncles to aunts and numerous cousins, all made it clear what she was: a blight on their bloodline. A shame that never should’ve been born. Naturally being exposed to such cruelty, Dyril fell to the background and learned to keep her voice to herself until she became an adult.

At the age of nineteen, she became exposed to her first social gathering. It was in honor of her Aunt Duvainil who had become married to another Patrician senator and the ceremony was to make their relationship publicly known. To hide Dyril’s human heritage, her fingers and hands were wrapped in cloth and were claimed to be ‘damaged’ due to her father’s unsavory lineage. This also did well to explain her other odd features that were beyond being hidden. Whenever she arrived, one of her family was never too far from her. They ensure she never spoke of her human father and even spoke for her, blocking any attempts to glean information from the younger elven woman. Most the time they gave a snooty air about it.

Around the age of twenty-one, she learned her mother’s old slave Shinx had been bred and expected a new kit in six months. Surprisingly, Dyril found herself worried over the new kit’s arrival and how much attention it would steal from her. For years, she had Shinx’s full attention on her and now something threatened it. However, deep inside she knew Shinx would not last forever and eventually she would need to replace her. If she rejected Kiseo, it would not only hurt Shinx but likely Dyril's family would give her an incompetent and nearly dead slave. That idea was less appealing than taking the risk.

Knowing she had little choice, Dyril sought out only one in the household who would faintly listen to her: Faron, her cousin.

The male, only older than her by a few years, sneered upon her request for an additional slave. He assigned an elderly and well beaten one named Lini to assist Shinx. The persian markings along Lini’s fur was maimed by numerous wounds thanks to burning to vicious beatings which was something that Shinx lacked.

A few months later, Raton had gotten in contact with Doroka Hawk and his company of mercs. Many of the soldiers had also been stationed on the outskirts of their farming property during their services and naturally, her curiosity swelled enough she couldn’t help but investigate. That’s when she met Claus Rotstein, a brash and boastful individual that happened to spy her stalking him one day. This was likely the first time she learned about humans as her interest over her own heritage became sparked the more she learned. She was fortunately enough to have learned the basic speak of humans, thanks to her family’s requirements, but she still had difficulty in making it flow naturally and had to pause to think about how to phrase her words sometimes.

This continued off and on until Raton discovered the pair during her first lesson in combat. The grandfather had been looking for Hawk when he overheard Dyril’s loud cry and the sound of a bow falling to the ground. As the elder elven man entered the doorway, his eyes narrowed and jaw set at the sight of her nursing a hurting wrist. She had let go of the bow too soon and it clipped her hand causing Claus to examine it for serious injury. With a loud, furious bark Raton summoned a no longer pregnant Shinx to the room then had the Mao usher them both back to Dyril’s quarters. What happened between them, Dyril still doesn’t know but it resulted in her being locked in her room or escorted everywhere, something that gradually tapered off over the years.

When she became twenty-eight, she had been mostly left to her own devices now. During her free time, which she had much of, she began to research and question family on her father’s side. From those who believed knowing the truth would degrade her new found determination, she learned about Henry Mazeltof and the events in Ralda. This also included her mother’s original plan to use her in tilting the favor of gain with the trading negotiations. It was a harsh thing for her to learn which took some time to accept, her desire to learn of her father assisted in distracting her mind and hurt emotions.

By this time, Kiseo had matured in the following years and been helping her mother in attending Dyril.

At first the younger Elf had difficulty in accepting the leopard cat patterned Mao, her jealousy and greed for attention conflicted with Shinx’s desperation for her young daughter to be accepted as her one day replacement. Out of all her family, Dyril was the only individual that treated her slaves with a fair merit of respect while many slaves of her family members were left broken, maimed, or worse.

There was one thing that finally won over the Elven woman’s heart, Kiseo’s gentle and empathic nature. It was something that Dyril had never been exposed to and in that moment, Kiseo was hers. Three years before their departure, Raton caught wind of Dyril’s conversations with Saeldir over their trade business. His reaction was as expected and in a sad turn of events, Shinx was the victim of it. The elderly Mao, about forty now, had been delivering a message to Saeldir over Dyril’s plans for the upcoming voyage when her path crossed Raton’s. Infurious with the fact his daughter’s shame was aiming to interfere with their family trade, he began to take his anger out on the Mao and took the message from her. Shinx died of her injuries hours later.

When Saeldir send another message inquiring about the voyage plans, Dyril quickly concluded that Shinx had been delayed or stop causing the pair to investigate. Finding the Mao, broken and tossed away, hurt the woman more than she expected as she spotted Kiseo literally break down and cry. Worried about her image in passing, Dyril quickly held the younger slave then ushered the Mao into an alley to console the sorrow and hide her own tears. Interesting enough, that was the final nail in her tolerance for her grandfather.

In about three years, she quickly made arrangements thanks to Saeldir for departure to Formaroth.

Season 1 Recap

Enroute to Nyhem, Dyril’s shipment encountered pirates which burnt their escorting ship and destroyed the whole crew. Thankfully her own vessel avoided such a fate on its way to the city. Upon arrival, Dyril was distraught to not find her human side of her family waiting for her as she made arrangements with the local Inn to stay. While within the city she met the Magister Lanaya Dionisa who politely introduced herself and took the two on a carriage ride to their temporary residence, then caught the young hybrid on recent events. Including the new High King.

Several hours later, she encountered her half sister in the main tavern room and learned of her family’s fate. They had sided with the wrong side, the family nearly eradicated during the onslaught. During the battle, Pearl was captured and held prisoner within Duncan’s prison in Nyhem. Explaining why Aljica came here, aside from following up on what their father should’ve done if he was still alive. Dyril silently took the loss. Together, both girls hatched an agreement to free their imprisoned sister through no time was officially agreed upon.

Later that evening she met the High King himself, both gaining his business and another reason to remain. The conditions were simple: she was to attempt to harvest mandrake upon Formaroth soil. It was a daring, possibly complicated vision but it would allow her to remain here.

The next night was the riots. After sending Kiseo out on an errand, Dyril’s room was broken into and in a panic she hid. As a few large thugs came in, she flew down the steps to find the tavern owner with her throat slit. Even worse… her way out was blocked by on of the upstair men’s companions.

They intended to kill her, simply because they hated magic and her nature as a half-Elf represented it. Claus was the one, an old childhood friend, who came to her rescue. He quickly put the men down and had her escorted from the burning city into the safety of the camp. She reminds there until she can find better arrangements.

Skills:

• Basic Etiquette: Being raised in higher society, Dyril was raised in the similar fashion as her female relatives. Through primary that was to ensure she didn’t mess up or create an ignorant for her family’s image. She knows how to conduct herself within a court, though she lacks a bit of knowledge on Formaroth’s customs which can easily be corrected.
• Translator: She knows how to read, write and speak numerous languages. This ranges from those in Formaroth to the conquered worlds within the Elven Imperium. Most her basic within Formaroth is thanks to interaction with Claus and his men.
• Sewing: Basic sewing as she had spent several hours learning to decorate tapestry pieces for subtle displays in her room.
• Court Dancing: She was expected to properly dance, through this is mainly in Elven fashion. She doesn’t know any Formaroth dances but with some time and practice, she could easily adapt to be able to perform them at a decent level.
• Harp Musician: Dyril is an elegant player of the harp. With this being her main activity aside from reading, sewing and other required skills for a lady, she has become rather good at playing it. The calluses of her fingers, through a bit faded, indicate she practiced rather vigorously over the years.
• Natural Talent with Crossbow: However, she’s not been able to or had any teachers willing to increase her skills in this area. This has made her remain at the novice or lower level, but she does get the lucky shot even so often. Over time, and with practice, her shot might become rather lethal.
• Good Memory: Dyril has learned to keep track of what others say with a keen memory and often uses it to determine if they are lying to her when facts don’t match up. It also makes it easier to recall when someone has wrong or owes her a favor.
• Novice Manipulator: While her heart, honestly, isn’t in it, Dyril’s ability to lie, coax, and even negotiate has grown over the years she’s worked with her Uncle Saeldir. However when compared to those have been doing longer than three years, she’s rather new to it.
• Elven Trader: In order to have some worth in Formaroth, Dyril had to learn the ins and outs of trading through her Uncle Saeldir. Was fortunate enough the Elven man wanted to step down from trading as he hated dealing with humans. However, he knew how badly it could damage their family reputation if they ceased it completely. Upon offering to take his place, he eagerly trained her into the worth of things and what risks were best. She doesn’t have the experience Saeldir did, but she isn’t the little novice she might appear to be.
  -Saeldir has made sure Raton can’t influence her trade ability… for now.
• Magical Examiner: While Dyril doesn’t know how to cast magic, she has regularly dealt with mandrakes, items and potions for the trading business. This has given her an interesting insight and more knowledge than most non casters. After spending a good portion of time with an item (A few days), she is able to tell the bare essentials over it including: if an object is truly magical, the enchantment’s quality and what it does on a baseline level. However since she’s not a mage, she’s only able to get a general sense rather than gritty details.

NPCS:

Hider

TBA as they become important and enter the IC, mainly because I’m still figuring out how to write her story and rather build support over time.

Kiseo

Name:
Given- Kiseo no last name
Names given by Nobility- Slave, Servant, Cat, Animal, etc. (need I really list them all?)
Nick to Allies and Friends- Seo (primarily to hid from her masters it’s her preferred name)
Title- Personal Slave of Híril Dyril.

Age: 11 years ( Felines mature faster, the ratio is about 1.5x faster than humans making her look about a little more than 17 years.)

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: This is an unknown factor for her, purely since interaction in areas of intimacy without express permission is forbidden and often punished. Through it is, Kiseo is taught by her masters she is suppose to be attracted to purely males. This is because a union of opposite sexes will produce kits and eventually added to the population of other enslaved rather than explore the aspect of love. Unknown to her, she does in reality swing both ways, but unless someone nudges this then it won’t be realised.

Position: (In Formaroth) Attendant to Dyril Elian.

Personality:

Invert Personality

Kiseo’s behavior and carefully chosen words give the impression she’s very shy and timid as an individual. While it is true she’s invert when it comes to her personality, she far from shy about meeting people. This side of her often shows only in private and when given permission to speak by Dyril. Though she knows she’s no longer a slave, Kiseo still acts submissive to her Elven mistress as deep down she knows if abandoned then she will likely not last very long on her own.

Curious and Observant

Unable to feed her curious and desire to learn new things by asking questions, Kiseo has learned to be watchful and listen to what interests her. Her mind trained to gleam whatever she can from the subject then make educational explanations. When permitted, which is rare, Kiseo’s excitement can get the better of her causing her to forget her place and embarrass Dyril by hurting the hybrid’s image. On these few occasions, she has been punished with a few light lashes over her bare back but it was nothing compared to past experiences. Since the Mao has learned to curb her need for answers to merely sneaking hidden looks, studying and listening in order to make accurate assumptions. She will adjust when she learns something new however so none of her information is set in stone ever.

Compassion and Protectiveness

Kiseo is a deeply compassionate Mao ever since birth, despite the harsh reality of her status. At first, she cared and watched the young kits under her care with a ferocious protectiveness from the danger of their surroundings. For many she was like a mother they never had as she attended their wounds and even shepherd them from the cliff overlooking the river and sea. Gradually when she became Dyril’s personal slave, her compassion started to flip gears to her mistress’. It only grew after her mother’s telling of how Dyril’s life really was. Most slaves assumed all the Elven masters lived in luxury and paradise, but for Dyril that was only partly true.

Over time, Kiseo began to admire how strong she viewed Dyril against her family’s attempts to tear her down and mentally torment her. However, the Mao knew those chains still existed and there was only one way to fully free her. After Shinx died, Kiseo made a promise to herself that she would help her mistress to find a place she could be anchored and severe her ties to her past. However, in order to do that it was Kiseo’s job to ensure that Dyril survived until then. The slave learned quickly how to appear uninterested, keep her head down, and casually act while listening in order to warn Dyril of unsuspected danger. Through she has her doubts her tactics would hold much assistance here.

Note: I’m still figuring her out so her personality might change and I’ll update if needed. Personality sections are really hard for me.

Weaknesses:

Low Pain Tolerance, Easily Bruised and Fear of Pain- Kiseo fears and can’t stand intense pain. When struck harshly by anything with intention to make her bleed, she can’t stop herself from flinching in reaction. She will not fight back as she’s not taught to, her eyes watering and the punishment seared into her memory. She easily bruises through they are often hidden under her blotchy pattern coat and unless you’ve seen her in her prime, you might never know it. When threat of pain comes with a gesture, or even one resembling it when someone is angry, she will automatically brace herself and assume it will happen.

Low Birth- Due to her low standings, Kiseo has very low confidence about changes in her future and in her own value. This means if she is abused, hurt, or otherwise insulted then she will often take the path of least resistance rather than seek justice for wrongs against her. Especially against those of higher station than herself. After all, she is taught she is purely property from the very beginning and have no rights to protest against how those of higher birth treat her. Though she knows deep down, she is far luckier than most slaves in the household.

Sticking Out Like A Sore Thumb- Kiseo has been pulled into the game of espionage by her mistress, Dyril, in recent few years. While in the Elven Lands she was one of many, here Kiseo faces a greater challenge that she’s never encountered before: She’s literally one of a kind here. While Dyril is the minority, Kiseo is literally the only Mao that has crossed over Elven Imperial Lands and into Formaroth where slavery is outlawed.

Weak in Strength- Kiseo, like others of her species, aren’t raised and bred for heavy labor. Due to her life time of performing lighter tasks like cooking, cleaning, climbing into high places, and other similar tasks, her strength is lacking. At max and with some some notable stress, she can deadlift about 80 lbs (average human beginner for her size, about 119 lbs) for a small time. This makes things a bit difficult should something much heavier get into her way.

Language Barrier- Kiseo wasn’t raised to understand human language in Formaroth and while she has little trouble understanding it, actually talking in it is another hurdle for her. A big issue and difference is the fact that Formaroth puts the subject as first and most important in the sentence. For Mao’s, their native language focuses on the topic, often placing it first to indicate its importance, leaving out key words, and uses description to fill in details. In addition to their verbal speech, her hands, feet and even tail will move out of habit since they include a crude but elegant sign language to their speech in order to further understanding. Here’s an example of how the structure varies, with both placed in English:

“Hello, my name is Kiseo. Would you like curry and eggs for breakfast, mistress? And will you be eating in your room too?”- Basic Formaroth

“Name Kiseo, hello. Curry and eggs for breakfast, you like, mistress? Eat in your room too?”- Kiseo in her attempt to speak basic Formaroth *

Biological

While she has strengths that humans don’t, she also has weaknesses in them. These are listed alongside her biological skills since it’s easier when separating them for me because a strength often creates a weakness if a condition is met.

Appearance:

Physical

Hider

Even before the Elven Imperium conquest over their lands, Máoróngrōng, or Mao as they are called, have practiced status breeding for generations. This has created a distinct division of their people into one of two stations: the nobles and peasantry. All have characteristics of Asian region cats, either wild or domesticated, but their appearance depends heavily on which station the individual resides in. Those once apart of the nobility class has more domesticate or small wild cat features since they rarely worked the fields, toiled in hunting, or other harsh tasks. Meanwhile, the peasantry were larger wild cats like leopards and tigers whose features lacked the delicate ability of the nobility since as writing, appearing not intimidating, etc.

Since being conquered by the Elven Imperium, the differences between the two lineages has grown larger. The Mao have been bred based purely on their master’s whims from living decoration to manual labor in the cleared jungles.

Kiseo is a Máoróngrōng which is a race of feline semi-digitigrade creatures both similar and different from humans. Like humans, she stands upright at 5'7” in overall height and weighs at a reasonable 119 lbs. She has two arms, legs, torso, and longer hair upon her head. There’s also five digit hands which are made for gripping, manipulating, and more. Her eyes are in a similar position through they are slightly more slanted compared to humans, colored ember in the irises. The pupil can slit or expand depending on the light source’s intensity, ensuring she can see most of the time. Brown hair that’s slightly lighter is highlighted with yellow streaks and kept at shoulder length, often pulled back into a short fish braid. Whatever short strands that escape the braid are shooting up in a slightly spiky fashion giving the appearance of messy and unkept bangs.

Here is where the feline distinctions come in. Her ‘skin’ is actually fine yellowish brown fur covered with lanceolated, black spots much like a leopard's’ along her sides. Along her neck, mouth and inside of her limbs are lined and colored white to contrast with her outside fur. She walks on her toes with retractable claws on her both her feet and hands. There’s also cushioning pads along her palms and fingertips, while they are on her toes, ball and heel of her foot. From the tip of her tail bone are additional vertebrae which create a tail about the length of her slender torso which is hardly easy to ignore since its tip is usually swishing side to side.

Her face holds the most obvious and alien characteristics, which blend human and feline facial features together in a sharp and elegant way. The shape is slightly diamond like giving it a long and sharp appearance but reasonable width compared to Elven kind. Her nose tip is closer to her lips giving her a bit of downward curve profile with the top of the nose bridge indented less than the average human. Her ears are rounder with a white spot over each, resting at the sides of her head. However, they are able to rotate forward, up, down and a bit backwards to catch any sounds that surround them.

This is the closest representation

This isn’t her face, or hair, but the structure. For the more domestic cats they might be gentler or wild might blocker depending on the breed. However the nose, lips and forehead is pretty much the same structure.

Clothing

When Kiseo was still a slave, her garb was molest and simple due to the nature of her status. While Elven servants were given worn hand downs to reflect their position in the household, most indoor Mao were bred for living decoration and quick service skills. Like many that worked in the home, she often wore a simple wrap on her upper torso covering from her underarms to the bottom of her breasts and specially designed loin cloth that came to mid thigh. The basic materials are designed to show as much fur as possible without exposing any unwanted gender identification. Due to their long tail, the rear flap was often split in order to allow free movement. She was one of the lucky ones that didn’t have their tails severed into a bob because it was an annoyance.

The most clothing she owned was a linen shirt and simple pants without shoes. Through they are in decent condition for her status, they do have both dirt, food and other stains from her rare work in the fields and the kitchen. The fields were harsh because of the elements so the slaves, in order to make them last longer, were often given a linen shirt and pants every year to protect them. They were used in the kitchen to prevent their fur in certain places and from shedding into the prepared dishes.

Background:

Pre-Season 1

Notes: House slaves: 25 avg, due to extreme abuse while field slaves lived up to 40 avg. Dyril’s slaves lived much longer due to better care, extending their lifespan much closer to a natural life span of 60+ years.

Keep in mind, Mao age at about 1.4 faster than humans which means her bio will cover less years and one year will cover more than one when it comes to physical/mental aging.

Kiseo, like many Mao, was born into slavery. There was no pre budding commitment or love between her mother, Shinx, and the stranger that sired her. In truth, Kiseo’s knowledge of him was pretty simple: he was the one she got her coat pattern from and he was a slave of another Elven Patrician branch. The union was arranged by Hír Raton through a minor sum strictly to replenish their Mao slave stock and possibly acquire a pretty fur pattern for display. The more exotic the coat, the more like it would be admired and easily hid the abuse many slaves suffered day to day.

For the first three years, Kiseo would be blissfully ignorant of this fact like all kits of that age.

After being born in 492 AR, she was allowed to remain with her mother for about a month. This was considered unusual for most slaves since the masters often required they become useful quickly. Oddly enough, it was by Dyril’s orders that Shinx care for Kiseo rather than wean her within the week. This was likely the primary reason Kiseo was considered healthier as an infant. While Shinx cared for her child, Lini, an elder Mao, replaced her during her allowed recovery period. When the month expired, young Kiseo was passed from her mother’s arms into others to be cared for in Shinx’s absence. Not being weaned yet, she sustained on rice milk, gruel, and porridge for the next two months. Though she had about three weeks more of her mother’s milk compared to the others, the substitutes still lacked the needed nutrition for her early development and gradually slowed it. She couldn’t run until the year 493 AR, her appearance close to a very thin three year old.

Theirs lives, while mostly work, had its moments of imagination. The children’s primary responsibility was to help the too far crippled with the tiny garden outside their assigned hut, their primary source of food for meals in the summer. It was during this time, Kiseo became attached to an older kit Ferat who shared the bamboo hut with her and about ten others. Ferat was a young, leopard Mao with pretty pattern coat and a shy nature. Through she was only older by one year, she seemed very observant and began to teach this to Kiseo over time.

Limited in resources, Kiseo, Ferat, and the other kits learned to use their surroundings and imaginations to great effect. They often made a game out of the harsh realities by putting on pretend auctions or working under a ‘master’. Sticks to rocks, anything was free game for a toy in their minds. They played ‘lily pad’ (think a crude hopscotch game) to skimming rocks across the drinking ponds and created dolls or quills to draw shapes in the dirt. Throughout the day, about two minor meals with a large meal at the end of it. On holidays they enjoyed a wild fish master Raton Elian allowed them to keep from the sea, but the size was always pitiful, unable to feed all the hungry mouths in the hut. This forced a few volunteers to gave their rations, in turns, up for the younger ones.

Time changes things and as she got older, her observant nature quickly began to break through the illusion of childhood happiness. By this time, she was considered three and the overwatcher of the younger kits still naive in their lives. She began to notice a pattern that whenever a kit reached the age of four, a month later they would become absent from the group. This pattern started to bother her over time since her own fourth birthday was coming close.

The night Ferat didn’t return to the kit group, Kiseo laid wide awake in her bed. She heard the field slaves trudge in, like normal, and begin to pull the herb pail from the corner. Without thinking, Kiseo quickly twisted about in her small space on the floor as she heard a familiar voice break through the snoring. It was Ferat, sobbing, as she turned her back to the older tiger Mao. With the night version gifted to her by her race, Kiseo pressed her hands over her mouth to muffle a horrified squeak. All along the leopard patterned back were numerous scars glistening with fresh blood. Her linen shirt was shredded while the Mao began to apply a paste, crushed within his paw with a rock, then traced each vivid line causing Ferat to recoil in pain and bit upon her linen’s sleeve to stifle her cry.

Shocked by the sight, Kiseo couldn’t pull her eyes way as she drifted slowly to sleep. It was her first hint of reality, but she didn’t fully understand it.

When her fourth birthday hit, it should’ve been a day of joy and modest celebration even when forgotten dread lingered in her heart. Being a slave, hardships never hit when individuals were prepared for it. Watching the newest kits, about six, she caught sight of one of the field slaves dragging what she assumed was a sack toward the master’s property edge. It was too far to determine details, a fact she would’ve been glad for, as she went back to her own given task. Later that day, she learned the elder Mao Lini had gone from this world. It didn’t take her long to recall that scene and knew it was proof that their lives matter little to their masters and were easily replaced.

It was a month later, Kiseo braced for her future. She was quickly surprised when her mother came casually walking toward the hut and mentioned she was there to retrieve her. Since her birth, Kiseo’s interaction with her mother had always been limited to an hour once or thrice a week.

These times weren’t given by the masters, but stolen by her mother in the dead of night when Shinx stole away from the house, down to the hut and took her sleeping place beside Kiseo. While the other slaves knew it was happening, they turned a blind eye to allow the pair their peace together. It was primary by voice, thanks to numerous lullabies, that Kiseo knew her mother at all. So when Shinx requested Kiseo to follow her, naturally the chance to spend time and feed her curiosity was too good to pass up. During their walk, Kiseo learned she would be attending a Híril Dyril who would eventually become her master.

A short, cold bath in the sea cleansed her of any filth or external parasites before they made their way into the house. That bath made weekly turned out to be one of many expected requirements. At first, the tasks were small and things she could already do well. Fetching water, supplies, meals and more often left her feet blistered, sore and cracked on the pads. Even worse, she was often clipped, halted or forced to do other tasks by the rest of the household purely to delay her in serving Híril Dyril. This resulted in her being punished a few times.

While the lashings were only skin deep, Kiseo didn’t like the pain in the least and sought to avoid it. She became smarter about her paths through the household and purposely taking longer detours rather than short cuts. In order to make up the difference, she would push herself harder to speed up. While she still was considered slow, the tactic worked. Eventually Kiseo began to avoid crossing paths with Dyril’s family at all. Over the year, Kiseo learned to show her respect, awe and even loyalty toward her would be new master. Something that filled her mother with pride as it endeared the hybrid Elven toward her.

Kiseo’s fear of pain developed when she seven years old. A young adolescent, her built and height would’ve had many humans mistake her for a young ten or twelve year child, she felt sorrow as she helped Shinx pack for Dyril’s yearly exposure to the Elven affairs. Naturally, her mother would accompany the Híril to attend to her during the trip and leaving Kiseo home.

It was a mistake Dyril would later regret.

About a day after Dyril left, the current mistress of the estate, Duvainil, assigned Kiseo to the main house slaves numbers. For the three months that her master was gone, Kiseo learned what true cruelty was and why many house slaves had numerous scars. One incident stuck out in her mind: the day she was ruthlessly whipped for an accident not even her fault. Faron, the very one that killed Lini, had purposely stepped on her tail and then jerked it back without warning. Trying not to fall into any of her ‘masters’, she immediately dropped the food she was holding and crumbled to the floor, her heart racing at the torment that awaited her. Duvainil frowned deeply then ordered two servants to take her out back where she was tied up to the punishment tree by her arms. Frightened, Kiseo pleaded for forgiveness but her words fell on deaf ears. By the Aunt’s command, about sixty lashes were made across Kiseo’s back. She was left hanging there for hours until a tiger Mao named Ting pulled her down. She was then ushered back to the hut where an elder prepared the healing paste. Ting later left to inform Dyril about what had happened.

What occurred between the young mistress and her Aunt, Kiseo had never found out. All she knew was that later that day, Shinx came to retrieve her and then took her into the house. In the kitchen, Dyril was waiting patiently for the pair. When Kiseo noticed her, the child immediately hit the ground and whimpered her apologies in a desperate voice. Tears fell from her eyes while she braced for the worst. It didn’t come as Dyril leaned down and helped Kiseo to her feet, her five digit grip firm but gentle. With a simple gesture, the Mao was pulled into a chair where Dyril motioned for Shinx to clean and wrap the wounds. This would be one of a few rare, caring actions Dyril would perform during her life.

The next time was when her mother was killed and she learned how much Shinx truly meant to the half elf. Fear had tilted and raged in her heart when the news about Shinx’s absence reached them. It wasn’t like her mother as both of them knew. Without a bit of nudging, Kiseo dressed Dyril for travel then placed on her linen shirt, pants and even a hand-me-down cloak of itchy material before they left for the docks. It was an hour later when the older Mao was found.

She was discarded under the docks with her neck broken and tilted at an odd angle. Kiseo was the first to find her in the grim twilight of the dawn. The horror and sorrow to her heart over the loss broke her down immediately as she cradled the lifeless corpse.

Any other master would’ve beaten her into submission then sent her home, but Dyril lowered herself and pulled Kiseo upright. Gently, Dyril guided them both from the open area into a local back alley hidden from view. After they finally became hidden from sight, her mistress allowed her to sob uncontrollably. Her own tears covered the ones the Elf was holding inside herself. When both females had composed themselves once more, they both knew how it happened and who had done this. It was a deep motivation to Kiseo to begin to take over her mother’s duty and help pass letters between Dyril and Saeldir. Over the course of the next few years, she began to help Dyril by assisting in her research, delivering letters, and other smaller tasks for her owner. Every bit was critical toward their trip to meet the Mazeltof and across the sea.

Season 1

After a harrowing time on the sea onroute to Formaroth, they arrived in Nyhem safely at the cost of their escort ship to pirates. Upon arriving, they encountered the Magister Lanaya Dionisa who politely introduced herself and took the two on a carriage ride to their temporary residence. The mage then caught them up on events in the country, including the new High King.

Several hours later, Dyril and her encountered her master’s half sister in the main tavern room and learned of her family’s fate. They had sided with the defeated armies of Andrew, the family nearly eradicated during the onslaught. During the battle, Pearl was captured and held prisoner within Duncan’s prison in Nyhem. This explained why Aljica came here, aside from following up on what their father should’ve done if he was still alive. Dyril silently took the loss. Through most might assume she felt nothing, Kiseo knew better. This pain drove the Mao to want to the only remaining family her master had. Together, the two girls (Kiseo roped into it, through not complaining) hatched an agreement to free their imprisoned sister through no time was officially agreed upon.

Later that evening she went along with Dyril to meet the High King himself, Dyril both gaining his business and another reason to remain. The conditions were simple: she was to attempt to harvest mandrake upon Formaroth soil. It was a daring, possibly complicated vision but it would allow her to remain here for far longer than originally thought.

The next night was the riots. After sending Kiseo out on an errand, Dyril was attacked in her room and reunited with an old childhood face named Claus. Unsure what to make of the human, Kiseo hasn’t any official opinion on him. The day after the riots they learned Alicja had used them to break out Pearl far earlier than expected then needed their help to get her out of the city. This plan gave Dyril little to no warning until now.

Kiseo knew the complicated situation as well as the delicate state the trust from her master had fallen into. Through she didn’t like Alicja’s drunken companion, the Mao volunteered her assistance. It was allowed on the condition if she was caught… Dyril would deny any knowledge about her involvement. It was a heavy risk for them both.

During the night, Kiseo managed to meet and help draw away the guards while Alicja and her allies managed to escape the city. So far, Kiseo believes no one knows about her involvement. It’s something she hopes stays that way for a long time.

Skills:

• Farm Experience: Very limited, but she does know how to grow and tend to mandrakes in the fields. This is usually only to get them to sprout and keep them healthy, but if they fall ill due to disease or need harvested… she won’t be much help.
• Able to Read and Write: This is primary Elven, Mao, and quite a bit of basic human. All taught out of need, rather than by allowance, purely because she is made to write out numerous things for her master and assist in the research over Dyril’s family in the last past three years.
• Cooking: The Mao, due to her requirement to take of her mistress, has been educated to cook primary Elven dishes.
• Mending Clothing: Is an excellent seamstress when it comes to repair, altering and other basics in clothing care.
• Language: Kiseo understands the language used by Formaroth, but speaking it is another matter. This allows her to eavesdrop and spy in a fashion that most might not realize, most the information being pulled back to her master for Dyril’s own personal use later on.
• Fast Runner: Being the only slave to Dyril, an Elf of many needs, Kiseo has learned to be fast and to navigate her path in the best possible way. Through most types of terrain, through when it comes to a run of endurance, she often falls behind the more athletic humans.
  
  • Spell: Metal Skin
    
    This spell makes an individual's flesh become as hard as steel armor for a limited time, gaining resistance to non magical piercing and slashing damage.
    
    Duration: 1 hour
    Classification: Restoration
    Range: Individual
    Concentration: Yes
    Limitations: This spell requires active focus and concentration from the user, which means that any action done to cause distraction has a chance -50/50- to cancel out the effect early. This spell doesn't protect against internal wounds such as internal bleeding, broken bones and other related wounds caused by high power impacts. Included and not limited to bludgeoning weapons, crossbow bolt (won’t penetrate, but hurt) and other weapons that able to hit with the same impact force.
    
    Notes: I have a method to keep track of this during use, but a great deal of if stops or continues will depend on the scene, story and other factors.

Biological Traits

• Flexible and Agility: Being a Mao, her feline traits give her advance flexibility by allowing her to dislocate her collarbone and squeeze into tight spaces most humans can’t. However it falls short of domestic cats ability making it difficult to fit her body into anything smaller than about 1/2 her shoulder width, mainly since her clavicle isn’t free floating or she couldn’t lift anything in her arms above her head.
• Balance: With her tail, she’s got excellent balance when darting across narrow bridges or areas as well as able to twist her body about on her feet when falling from high heights (about 7 m max). The bad part… her tail can get in the way of things if she’s not watchful.
• Claws: Retractable claws are noted on her fingers and feet, but they are primarily for climbing, delicate manipulations, and minor self defense rather than any sort of decent combat weapon.
• Silent Walking: Mao, when bare foot, are silent in their walking. Unless it’s on very weak floorboards or you strain to listen, you likely won’t hear when Kiseo walks up and stands beside you. Another thing to note, her movements in her attempt to be quiet are often slow and cautious as she still can make a sound if careless. So she’s not going to be running while using this skill.
• Higher Hearing: Higher hearing than humans, her ears about to rotate and can pick up faint sounds often missed by humans. While not as high as felines, her ears still are sensitive to extremely loud sounds. An example is the clashing of swords. Any similarly loud sounds will briefly hurt her ears, causing her to flinch in discomfort, distract or make her go temporarily deaf.
• Night Vision: Kiseo has limited night vision up to twenty feet, making her nearsighted in almost complete darkness. Everything is displayed in black and white making details like color hard to determine. Anything beyond the twenty feet is a complete, unreadable blur to her and straining will not help. In addition, unexpected or warned flashes or light will temporarily blind and hurt her depending on the exposure time and harshness. So say you stick fire in her sight suddenly when her eyes are in night time form, she won’t see anything for a good minute or more until her eyes readjust from the sudden change (varies with how long).

*_{Keep in mind, I’m trying and it might not be an accurate attempt to mimic a foreign Chinese individual trying to speak broken English. However, it should get the gist across.}

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

To all Resistance members, both Future and Past, could you all fill this out hen pm it to me and the GMs? It would help me with Charles greatly and also give me a timeline for when everyone joined it and how many members we have between the timeskip and the present. If anyone wants to do an actual memory, I would be pleased to weave that with you and place it into the IC at some point when important unless it’s recent then we can work things out with the timing.

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Date of interview: Arc 1, Day ?
How did you learn of the Resistance?
Motivation to join?
Skills to add to the Resistance?
Understanding of what might happen?
Relatives to contact in worst case scenario?
Additional information?
Contact information?

Essence of the World: Flesh Reborn [Adv. Roleplay]

Questions and Answers from Players

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From Dracorex:

Vampire powers:

I know we've talked about them learning to control blood, but what does that even mean? Bloodbending A:TLA style, or....?

What else is on the table? Glamour and illusion? Shapechanging? Hypnosis/compulsions/whatever you want to call it, that ability to make some hapless human do as you bid?

Bloodbending with vampires is similar to A:TLA, but you can only manipulate the blood a vampire has consumed and stored within your stomach. You can affect certain traits of the blood, like use as a barrier, strengthen it, sharpen it and form. However, it is still blood so things that affect blood will affect it as well. Example, superheating it will cause it to evaporate since it’s still very much mostly water. Clotting agents can make it hard to manipulate or possible solidify into a useless mass, etc. I’m going to let you determine this on your own with your best judgement on each case, purely because I couldn’t literally list everything and it’s more work than I feel is needed for it.

No glamour and illusions, they seem to fit Fae more and we have mention of those in the world. Also miracle Angels use this by infusing light and air with their essence.

No Shapeshifting because feels again like a Fae and also a werewolf ability, with the later having more advanced physical abilities.

Yes to minor compulsion magic, but on a few conditions:

You can’t ask them to kill themselves.
They are still themselves when it comes to the request.
They still have free will as the spell works more to coax them into fulfilling your request than forcing them. They don’t have to comply through it might be emotionally painful to do so, like disappointing your best friend by saying no to a dangerous dare.
It has a wear off timer and has to be recasted when it runs out.

More specifically, of course, I want to know what's actually on the table for 400-year-old Matthew Stanford, who used to gorge himself on blood as a matter of course, but in the present day confines himself to donations once every two days. I'd assume any power upgrades are going to come with an increased appetite, but by how much? I can see him eventually scaling up to multiple feedings daily, with animal blood if he had to, if that's what it'd take for him to have more power on hand to tap XD.

The above abilities are a baseline and naturally gifted to vampires after turning, but we agreed that older ones would’ve gradually developed abilities outside their standard race’s baseline. Ranging into anything that a human could do. However, they still lose blood to pay the essence price for these spells. Each individual is unique in their development from their origins and might’ve brought some in from before they were turned.

We've talked before about the limits for Contempt, but to clarify: does a vampire who has given in entirely to their demonic nature still qualify for Contempt's effects by definition of having been once-human, or is there no longer anything human within them to call upon? Because I think I recall a mention that an elder vampire is practically a Hellion? And I take it the knife works on Solus XD?

After looking at your item, with Merlin, we made some clarifications while trying to keep the item’s base close to what you wanted. I think we did pretty well balancing with strengths and what we nerfed.

It’s going to be treated like super silver in a sense, which means it always damages its target. Including Hellion, Warden, or higher level Angels. However, that’s all it does with the higher level creatures. It doesn’t suppress their abilities because they were never human to begin with and it doesn’t fly trying to change them into what they never were, which I think was discussed in the main chat before. It still needs to bind to its user so Matthew is currently the only one that can use it and it will work for. Matthew’s abilities have been restored and he isn’t lowered to human level when he uses. One last effect, this item can suppress Grey Angels, Surface Demons, and unmorphed Chimeras (ones that aren’t fully formed like Solus) essence because they were once human. They are brought down to human level.

Regarding my still-in-planning angel character Taneli:

How exactly does the 'trapped in onyx' thing work?

Exactly as it sounds. An Angel is sentenced to become trapped in Onyx through a ritual, their whole being placed in suspended animation (their minds active, though it’s like thinking with an overly tired mind). The Children of Sathanus have something similar called the Bloodstone. Any Angel trapped within remains how they were when they were originally trapped, no matter how much time passes. This form of punishment is severe and held for all Angels that actively go against the Council, and refuses to heed their warnings about their actions. Their sentence can last from permanently to only a day for minor cases.

What secret could he have learned that would cause the Council to imprison him in order to keep the truth under wraps?

There is one secret that could lead in to a pretty great arc down the road and that’s the information about Black Winged Angels. They aren’t paying for past sin nor will the Whites or Greys risk becoming one of them, that’s a lie produced by the Council. In trying to uncover the truth, he could’ve been warned off by the Council then imprisoned for seeking/freeing Clairvoyants in exchange for additional information. They wouldn’t know what he learned so they imprisoned him to be safe, which he learned very little. We can work additional details when you get ready to finish him.

How does a normal angel ascend to Seraph level?

Seraphs are Angels with all their prior lifetimes unlocked making them second in power to Archangels.

Battle Angels: how does their power work? They can seal their own wounds, shut down pain signals with a thought, basically it's all manipulation of their own body in order to get through danger, correct?

Battle Angels focus on physical manipulation of their own bodies. The only thing they can’t do that is physical is literally shapeshift into another individual or too radically out of their original shape, mostly because it requires changing their biology completely and that is one limitation they can’t overcome. Angels will always be Angels. They can seal their wounds, shut down pain signals (thought they still suffer damage), manipulate their blood into acid, use their tendons like whips, create bone armor, etc. If you think you can do something with your anatomy and it feels plausible with science, example changing the PH of blood to make it more acidic, than you could likely get away with it in a Battle Angel. They also can increase their strength, speed or other attributes.

Can Tamer Angels control a vampire like Matthew? Or is it a case of whose will is stronger, or if magical backup of some kind is involved, or....?

Taming has to do with the personality and psyche of a demon, so yes one could.

There’s two ways to affect a Demon. First one is a short term, but uses lots of focus and essence to achieve. The second one is more long term, uses less essence and focus to achieve.

First Method: Compel.

Focusing on a Demon, a Tamer can send their essence through the air into it without detection. The Essence seeks out and reads through the memories, finding something to actually compel them to obey the Angel. This is usually based on the Demon’s personality and method that will work best. During the digging process, the creature can fight back against it. However the success is based on intelligence and will of target vs the Angel’s power and experience. For Players, this is a discussed matter and one they both have to agree on. Then both need need to inform the GM separately to avoid concerns.

Tamer needs to be aware of the demon and location in order to use this.
During this, the Tamer Angel is left open to attack from outside sources. To counter this, they work in teams with Battle Angels.
The range and duration varies based on the Angel’s power.

Second Method: Shock Collar.

After a Tame Angels traps a Demon, they insert their own Essence it while in the shard, which they use like a shock collar. While they can’t manipulate the outside essence, it’s still very painful to feel the essence within become hot, cold or in some way hurt them. Using this method, they can ‘tame’ the demon in order to follow their orders or behave a set way. Some Demon, like Wardens and Hellions, are much harder to control. Mostly because they can’t be caught with a normal shard but only a specially designed one or more advance device.

Longer term as the Demon still has free will and themselves, but the shock can literally cripple the Demon with just a cue from the Angel.
The range of influence on the Essence is based on the Angel’s power. Inexperienced or ill trained Tamers can lose control of their Demons should they get out of range.
Is there anything planned for the Illuminati? Because I think the King of Swords has a brother who probably might be one of their number. I haven't got any plans myself yet, just trying to set up possible interesting connections.

At this point, there’s no hard plans for them. That could change as the IC advances and things get going.

From Bartimaeus:

Limitations of Demon Regeneration

Demon Regeneration/Healing depends on the species. Some heal really heavy damage, but rather slow. Others heal rapidly but very little at a time. Some are just plain hard enough to damage, they don’t need it. With this ability, you need to figure out which type you want:

Fast healer, but low damage taker= These guys can rapidly heal shallow wounds in moments, but they can’t take wound after wound because it drains their Essence too fast. If they take enough damage, like regrowing a limb a few times, their healing ability will literally give out on them during a fight. One needs to carefully monitor their damage to ensure this doesn’t happen. (using bursts and large amounts of Essence, more drainage but faster)
High damage taker, but slow healer= These guys can take a lot of damage of various types, some even lethal as long they are able to remain alive. A snapped spine or severed arm can eventually be healed or regrown from, but it takes a long time like a month at least depending on the damage. This means any healing shouldn’t be counted on to prevent death, but after you survive and licking your wounds. (using low and steady amount of Essence, less drainage but slower)
No healer, but hard as hell to damage= Excessive tanks. Most have skin or some type of barrier that naturally prevents common damage. Some have been known to walk through fire, repel most magic, and even survive damage that otherwise would kill it. However, one thing to note… when you get past the shell, then any damage that happens heals at a human rate and might become permanent depending on the damage.

The reason I added the last section is because there are some Demons that lack either of the prior two, but still heal depending on the damage.

Each have their own strengths and weaknesses as you will note above.

From Naril:

1.) I understand Loom is a crime-filled city. To what degree does that effect everyday people? Are average people constantly afraid for their lives from random attack (mugging, carjacking, shootings, arson)?

Stockton, don’t be on the streets in a shitty neighborhood after dark.

2.) The same question but for magical assaults. Given that the magical world is, generally, secret, how much are supernaturals (or plain humans who have knowledge of the supernatural) preyed on by other supernatural creatures? Is going out after dark always an invitation for death or assault? Is it just around the full moon?

About 20%, and depends on the supernatural. All Demons need essence, so they had a variety of ways to get it that doesn’t always involve murder. Including looting freshly killed corpses, alchemy potions using plants, etc sold at the Goblin Market. Some just kill animals instead of humans for their Essence, as it comes from all living things. Usually when there’s a huge murder spree in short period, it’s player/plot related which will toss the supernatural world into a rumor mill with worry over what the aftermath means for them.

3.) How often do Creatures Of The Night go on murder sprees that have to be cleaned up or dealt with by [insert faction here]?

No more than once a month but it's more common for a single repeat offender to be a problem for extended periods of time with a decent gap between one issue to the next.

4.) Do other nations have similar bodies to the Bureau? Are their hiring practices less "join or die?"

Yes and Yes. Currently most lack detail.

4a.) Who cleans up the body, relatives, loved ones, pets, and unpaid bar tabs of people who choose "die?"

The PR branch of the Bureau

4b.) Are any of members of the Bureau themselves supernatural creatures?

Yes.

5.) If there are substances that restore Essence, where do they come from and who has access to them?

No, only rest, food and time. Use of Vessels or something like Solus chemical bath can also help.

6.) What other races are planned, if any? For example, chimerae.

Chimera. No other races at this time however we may consider player created ones.

7.) I am reasonably assured Essence and magic is about to be detailed, so I'm holding questions till later.

Look at pin within Discord Chat. ^-^ We will add a link to the OP soon.

Essence of the World: Flesh Reborn [Adv. Roleplay]

<Snipped quote by Fallenreaper>

Time travel is far too complicated for me to do it justice in writing, so I'm interested purely in physical travel.

Cost being multiplied by distance would seem to be a simple way to prevent anything far too silly from occurring.

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Character Concept: Sam, commonly known as the Planewalker (she claims to have had a much cooler name, until some bald guy stole her thunder with a series of awful movies about an unnamed transporter), is an independent contractor, plying her trade by offering the most discreet means of transportation possible...teleportation. She has few scruples regarding who her current client is, provided they follow a simple rule: "half now, half upon arrival at your destination". A big fan of her own work, Sam claims that she can get past any physical barriers or magical wards (but she is quick to mention that the greater the difficulty and haste required to complete a job, the more astronomical the price demanded for her services).

Summarized powers (sorry for the very quick notes format, but it is late and sleep beckons).

Teleportation Travel and Dimensional Doors

Freedom of Movement:
Sam is unaffected by spells that would directly hamper her freedom of movement (e.g., a spell that paralyzes would do nothing to her, but a wall of rock summoned from the earth in front of her would be a problem).

Longstrider:
Sam moves at a rapid pace, taking steps that seem far beyond her stature and moving a speed of movement one hardly expects from a human being. When fueled by sufficient qualities of tea, she hardly appears winded even after the longest and quickest of marches.

Sense of Direction:
Sam has a remarkable ability to locate objects (can sense the direction toward object/creature/person/etc., essentially think of it as a compass).

Dimensional Doors:
Sam can open or rather summon dimensional doors, allowing her to teleport distances across distances both short and long (with increasing cost as the distance or wards to a place increase). Sam jokes that she can get into the most well-guarded and well-warded of place, provided so long as the price is right.

Teleportation:
When absolutely required (usually for her own safety or that of a client), Sam can instantly transports herself and a few others over a great distance (at a great toll to herself and/or potentially someone else in her vicinity...Sam calls this person an "unwilling sacrifice"). There is a range limit to this ability however and given the rushed nature, Sam cannot guarantee that she or her party will not arrive off-target. It is possible that Sam could use this ability offensively, by teleporting a foe away from her (or worse yet, by banish the subject of her spell to another plane of existence), but given that it's much easier to simply teleport herself, Sam rarely if ever chooses to fight rather than flee.

Find the Path:
Using her magic can also discover the most direct way to a location, allowing her to plan out her routes.

Greater Teleportation:
Given time to prepare and an ample supply of arcane energy (or sacrifices), Sam can teleport herself and a few other entities across an almost limitless distance and with pinpoint precision (however this is both very tiring, expensive from an arcane point of view, and difficult...which translates to it being an option for only the most wealthy and powerful of clients).

Phase Door:
A fan of trickery, Sam can creates invisible passages through inert materials like wood or stone (and even arcane wards given time/focus) allowing for very convenient entrances or exits.

Planewalker:
Sam can project herself and her companions onto the astral planes of existence, so heaven, hell, and everywhere in between. This is useful when trying to arrive at a location without being followed or when discretion is the best choice of action (as it more often than not is for Sam).

The Ever-Shifting Room

Beyond an ancient looking door lies a mysterious room that never stays in the same place for long. In a constant state of flux, nothing about the door or the room remains the same for very long, though all who have seen past the heavy door remark that it is a lovely room, with a most tasteful decor, exceedingly comfortable furniture, and a seemingly endless supply of varied and rare sorts of tea.

A frequently reoccurring couch in the room is perpetually covered with a blanket and graced with a single pillow (rumored to be the softest in all of existence) and it can be surmised that Sam sleeps there.

Only Sam knows where this room or the door leading to it can be found at any given moment.

@Sightseer

The edits make it easy to read and thank you. I need to talk with Syn, as some of these would need some serious thought and limits applied with the more powerful ones. However, I think it's possible at least some of them are doable without too much issue.